As the moon rises
by Rayfinder
Summary: The story of a female bosmer thief and her journey into a strange land as she's thrown into a series of events that she never planned nor asked for. (OC-Nerevarine)
1. As the moon rises

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own The Elder Scrolls series nor any of the characters that belong to it. All rights reserved for Bethesda._

Author's Note: This is basically going to be based off the main story of TES III: Morrowind and my version of it's story. It'll focus on my main character, the female bosmer Jollain and her journey through a land she's never visited before.

I haven't really published any stories on this site before and I'm not completely certain about the quality of my own writing, but I'll try to do my best.  
The chapters probably won't be very long, but it's just to try to get myself to write more often rather than in huge quantities.

* * *

The squeaking noises of rats, the dripping sound from liquid running down from holes somewhere above in the roof which might be water but just as well might be urine, blood or other foul and probably contaminated materials.

Groans of pain from men and women turning around to try their best at getting some sleep on the cold, hard stone floor.

The beating sound of skin and bones hitting the iron bars in front of the occasional unruly prisoner, followed usually by screams of pain once the guards arrive.

The Imperial prisons of the capital city is always filled with the most peculiar noises and yet they never change. "Regulars" always remember the noises they hear whether they get out or not, as some of the most horrid ones around. Things that they'd prefer to forget but feel that it's almost impossible to do so.

The smell, the noises and even the few lights in the darkness is always what they remember, but never the time. Never how long they spend here, never when days and nights go by. It always feels like an eternity, no matter the length of the sentence.

But as the moon rises on the sky this night, the stairs down to the lower cells are filled with noises of heavy boots and chatters from the guards who descend them.

"Two prisoners? Just two? That seems kind of like a waste of resources and time to send all that way". A man, most likely an imperial of some kind based on his accent, although he's not alone as another one join in.

"It's not up to us to decide. The orders came straight from the top." Both of them sound skeptical in their own ways. One would perhaps not notice it in the tone, but seeing the distant look in their eyes and the light frown on their brow could help to understand that this isn't an idea they enjoy.

"From the top? The Watch captain?"

"Higher. Much higher.."

The guards quiet down as their boots hit the floor with the prison cells. Moving together, they peer in through the bars of the different cells. The occasional mad one with twitches, the aggressive one who throws himself at the bars and scream in either rage or desperation, the singing one who lets her tunes echo through the halls until someone tells her to shut her trap; there's all kinds of prisoners and the two guards recognize all these and more. But they're not looking for any of the crazy ones.

The first cell they stop by is dark. Not because it's empty but because it's hard to see the one inside. Not until the prisoner looks up with red eyes glimmering in the light from a nearby torch do they really see that he's there and alive.

"It's this one, right?" whispers the first guard to the other. He gets a firm nod in response.

"Jiub. Time to get your ass up and about. You're getting shipped off."

The bald dunmer looks up at them, not dressed in more than a pair of ragged pants, a worn rope tied around him as a belt. He doesn't look like one of the sad ones, but there is a bit of anger in his eyes. Whether he's pissed off for being trapped or perhaps to be woken up, they can't really be sure. Either case, the gates are opened and the first guard move inside, a hand on his sword while approaching him carefully.

"No hasty moves, alright? I'm putting these handcuffs on you."

The dunmer just glares at him, one of his eyes slightly less open as the right one has a nasty old scar over it. He opens his mouth and speaks. The voice makes it sound like his throat is rather dry, probably not had anything to drink in quite a while. It's a hoarse and ragged voice.

"Taking me to my execution, imperial?"

He doesn't struggle as the guard forces him up on his legs and puts the cuffs around his wrists while his arms are placed behind his back.

"Apparently not. You're to be shipped back to Morrowind."

"Morrowind? I thought the point was to kill me here for whatever reason."

The guard sighs. It's annoying when they ask questions. He isn't getting paid to talk to these criminals.

"Look, I don't make the rules nor the orders. I wouldn't have kept a murderer like yourself for so long anyhow. Just do as you're told, that usually works best to not get executed on the spot."

The old elf just sighs as he gets pushed out from the cell, walking onto the stone floor without any shoes. The rocks that made up the floor were cold and worn. Many prisoners had probably been dragged, pushed, knocked over and killed here. He didn't even want to think about it and hoped that he wouldn't be coming back here anytime soon.

As the light of the moon outside shines down on his head, he takes a moment to enjoy the glory of being out from the stench of the prisons, before getting shoved inside the wagon, which is more like a glorified cage.

He waits for several minutes then, as the wagon don't really start moving yet and begins to get impatient.

Hammering on the side of it with his shoulder, he pokes his head towards one of the barred windows on the back. He doesn't see any guards but calls out anyhow.

"Hey, by Oblivion what's wrong? Are we moving tonight or not?"

All he gets is the yell from a guard at the front of the wagon. "Shut up back there! No talk from the prisoner!"

Grumbling he sits down on one of the bench-like seats at the side and wait. Something he doesn't have to do for long.

The doors open once more and another prisoner gets shoved inside, but one who is very much unlike him. It's one with dark skinned but closer to brown rather than ashen. The eyes looking around the cage are hazel colored and the hair which is tied up in some kind of low height ponytail is red-brown.

This person however is not male but female, which becomes evident to him mostly with the curvier body under the worn leather she wears, but also from the bumps on her chest and the face which is adorned with softer lines.

She seems to struggle more than he did though when she gets pushed inside and spits the guard in the face before he shuts the door hard, almost hitting her.

She sighs and sits down hard on the other side of the seats. Jiub notices that her ears are pointy just like his own but she's rather short. Accounting for all things she's most likely a wood elf.

She emits a chuckle when she's seated, which makes the other elf raise his eyebrow in surprise. She's tied just like him by handcuffs and shut inside this tight cage together with him.

"What's so damn funny?"

She hasn't really noticed her fellow prisoner until he just opened his mouth and she eyes him slightly, and then flashes a grin. "Did you see that shot? Got him right in the eye! That's what he gets for tricking me. Told me he'd get me out in five days time and now I'm being carried off! And why are you alone here? Where are they taking us?"

Jiub sighs. She's one of the talkative ones apparently.

"Morrowind. Didn't they tell you?"

The smile on the female quickly disperses now. This was rather shocking news to her. She's hardly ever been outside of the borders of this little island that is the Imperial City and now they're taking her not just off this divines-forsaken place but to a whole different part of the continent?

"Morrowind?! Why?!"

"Look, you seriously think they'd tell us why they're taking us anywhere? We're prisoners, not customers. Try to think though, why would they carry you anywhere? What are you in for?"

She leans her head back against the wooden wall of the cage and sighs. Her arms are placed rather uncomfortably behind her, but it's hard to find a good way to sit anyhow.

"Theft."

The dunmer scowls at that. He murdered people in Morrowind for rather horrible reasons and he's in this situation for rather stupid reasons, getting himself caught for a murder he actually didn't commit. But this girl looks way less dangerous than him and theft doesn't seem like any reason to get banished from the capital for.

"Of what?"

The female flashes a grin once more then, as if proud of her work. "Tried to steal a wedding ring of a City watch Captain."

That sounds sort of skeptical coming from a short little lady like herself, but either way she failed. "So you're not just a thief, but a bad thief."

That makes her sit up straighter and frown at him. "Hey, I did a fine job! I was set up, I swear it! There's no way he could have seen me in the darkness."

Sighing, he shakes his head. "Either way, you're without a prize and about to get shipped off to Morrowind, so it doesn't matter now thief, does it?"

He twitches slightly as she kicks his leg and then stands up, trying to poke her head out from the same window he did before, looking out at the night of the Imperial City.

"I'm Jollain, not 'thief'. And trust me, before we reach wherever we're going, I'll find some way to get us out of here. For a master thief like me, getting out of here will be a piece of cake."

Deciding to lay down on his bench, to try to get some sort of rest even through all rocking and tossing of the wagon, Jiub gives her ten minutes before she'll give up on her escape plan.


	2. Stars Aligned

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls series nor any of the characters that belong to it. All rights reserved for Bethesda._

The storming winds whip hard into the sails of the ship. The dark night gives them not much light to work in and the cruel sea slam into it's hull, shaking their vessel heavily.

Screams of men and women on deck can be heard all over the area, either through almost inaudible orders, or through yells of surprise or struggle.

Lightning shatters the darkness for a moment, followed by it's thunder that echoes with a roar far above the howling of the wind.

But the stranger in the hold hears no sound but that of a gentle queen of dusk and dawn.

_"They've taken you from the Imperial City's prison; first by carriage and now by boat._

_To the east, to Morrowind._

_Fear not, for I am watchful. You have been chosen."_

Thunder shatters the gentle voice and once more the distant yells and howling flood the stranger's dreams.

* * *

Hours later, she feels herself shaking back out of her dreams. And it's not shaking out of cold or fear but rather someone else's influence. She's not certain why.

A voice she recognizes makes her slowly open her eyes, trying to blink through her blurry vision.

"Wake up. We're here."

It's hard somehow, as if she's been pulled out of a long and deep sleep, while being both here in this realm and not. The shaking slowly die down as she pulls herself back into consciousness.

"Why are you shaking? Are you okay? Wake up!"

Jollain gasps then as her eyes suddenly shoot up, pushing her into a state of being fully awoken, and she feels an arm grasping hers. A pair of red eyes gazes back into her own hazel ones and a slight nod from the other person is something she sees before getting some help.

"Stand up. There you go. You were dreaming."

"Ugh, yeah I realize that. I feel terrible." She can't help but cough as her throat feels thick and irritated.

She looks around and puts her hand unto the wooden floor of the ship. It's damp, as is parts of her clothes.

"Feels like I'm wet too. What happened here?"

Jiub crosses his arms as he peers at her with a scowl. "Of course you're wet, but I doubt you'd remember that. Not even last night's storm could wake you."

The shorter elf regains her composure and dusts her worn leggings off and looks around the ship. Only a lantern lights up the little cramped cell room given to them below deck. She remembers their trip now and the odd reason that she's not yet been told why she was shipped off to Morrowind. How often do you banish cut purses away from the capital? Most likely it'd be way too expensive and take way too much time. If you really want them gone, it's much easier just to decapitate them and be done with it.

Jiub's hoarse voice interrupts her thoughts. "I heard them say we've reached Morrowind. I'm sure they'll let us go."

Feeling that her neck is sore, probably from sleeping in a not-too-comfortable location, she rubs the side of it slightly, trying to stretch a bit while she's at it.

"Oh yeah, they said something about that when we got unto the boat, didn't they? Strange. I still don't understand why we're even here."

The dunmer shrugs and looks towards the door. "Beats me. But I think I'm done with this whole ordeal now. I've done enough time in prisons and dungeons. Going the straight line is the way for old Jiub."

Jollain peers at Jiub and crosses her arms, her mouth crooked up in a grin. Somehow she knows how he feels. Serving time in the Imperial City's prison isn't really fun, and she's been unfortunate enough to have had more than a singular piece of experience of that now. She doesn't have time to retort however, as they hear heavy and armored foot steps coming towards them from outside the door.

"Quiet, here comes the guard."

The door to their cell is unlocked and a grim-faced male imperial, with brown thin beard and hair and eyes in the same color, gazes at them both for a moment, eyeing them quickly.

"This is where you get off, both of you. Come with me."

The two elves give each other a quick gaze, before following him. The lack of cuffs is the first thing they notice. So perhaps they really are letting them go.

They pass through the bottom level of the ship, up through a hatch to the middle one where more guards of different sorts, all from the Imperial Legion of course, give them looks. Jollain hasn't ever really been on a ship before. Well, at least not sailed on one but no one can blame her for going unto one for..business. Wasn't one of her imprisonments the cause of a failed boat heist? Best not to think about it.

As the planks of the ship emits their whiny creaks, they go up the stairs leading to the deck and are immediately blinded by the rays of sunlight. It seems that whatever storm went over them went by quite quickly.

As they step up to the board that leads down to the docks, the grim-faced imperial turns around and steps aside.

"Step unto the docks and let's keep this as civil as possible."

His voice is as hard as his eyes and face looks. It seems he at least doesn't trust either of these prisoners. Or perhaps he's just tired and grumpy over transporting two criminals of such little importance.

Either way, Jollain winces slightly and decides to take an extra step to the side.

"Alright alright, I get it. Don't worry, it's not like I'm gonna try to squeeze you to death with my mouse-like hands."

The joke isn't appreciated, instead his eyes seems just to darken even further, which the wood elf takes as a sign to get going right away.

Two imperial guards stand at the front of the docks, dressed in heavy armor, although looking slightly less irritated compared to the sailors.

"Ah, you've finally arrived." A friendly voice from an Imperial soldier wasn't really something she expected when-

Well, ever really. But least of all when stepping into a new strange land where she'll apparently be thrown off into. She wonders for a moment if this is what the Imperials do when they get tired of recurring prisoners. Dump them in another province and let it be their problem!

Jollain flashes a pretty smile at him, although she doesn't really feel very happy.

"Aye! Through storm and chaos apparently! Imperials do anything to get rid of unwanted lowlifes, I guess."

Whether the sarcasm and insult goes him by or not, she don't know, but either way he speaks with a friendly voice and a smile on his lips.

"Great, I'm sure you'll fit right in here. Follow me up to the office and they'll finish your release."

He turns around and sighs, crossing her arms. 'Finish' most likely means paper work and questions. It usually does.

As they head into the building, Jollain sees how Jiub is split off from her to pass into another part of the Imperial quarters.

She steps into neatly and organized office, with another imperial guard at the side of the room. There's paintings or pictures of varied sorts hanging all across the walls, and some books, vases and other objects, most likely of value, standing in some shelves around the room. Jollain wonders what the chances are of her being able to slip out of this room with them. Well, seeing that all eyes are on her, probably pretty slim. Her own eyes roll slightly with all the large Imperial symbols put up around the room as well, the iconic dragon mark.

Except for the two guards, there's also an elderly breton sitting by a desk. His beard is white, just like his fading hair going around his almost fully bald head.

He squints his eyes slightly when Jollain comes closer, gazing down into his papers for a moment and then up at her again.

"Ah yes, the bosmer. We've been expecting you. Welcome to Seyda Neen. I'm Socucius Ergala, chief agent of the Census and Excise office here. Come come, sit down."

He motions towards a chair at the opposite side of the table. Sighing, she realizes she doesn't have much choice and sits down on her seat. It's hard and worn, like much other things in this room. They could have at least put a pillow on it for her, for as long as she'll be sitting here.

"You'll have to be recorded before you're officially released, of course. There's some questions to answer and signing of letters too."

Rolling her eyes again, Jollain shakes her head. "Yeah well, my writing skill isn't the best so I hope you don't hope for me to write a damn book."

The old breton gives her just a simple smile before nodding and dotting the tip of a quill in ink and starts to write down the preparations on a piece of parchment.

"Don't worry, you'll only have to put a quick little mark at the bottom, nothing important. Let's start with your name."

She leans back in the chair, her head resting against the hardened back of it out of boredom. "Jollain."

"Just Jollain? No last or middle names?"

A deep sigh emits from her mouth. "What do I look like, the Count of Skingrad? Just Jollain."

Socucius scribbles something down on the parchment. "Hmm. And your place of birth?"

Letting her curious eyes again gaze over at the shelves with the valuables, her thieving mind tries to think of ways to get to them during the interview. "High Rock."

The man looks up from the paper and scratches his beard thoughtfully. "High Rock is rather large. Do you have a more specific location?"

Jollain shakes her head. "Nope. Look, I came to the Imperial City when I was just a few years old. I dunno where I was born, nor who was dumb enough to put me out."

Writing down High Rock with an unknown home city, he makes another note with unknown parents. Much like the document that came to them from the capital had said.

"Very good. The letter that proceeded you, mentioned you were born under a certain sign. And what would that be?"

The question gives Jollain cause for pausing in her treasure scouting. How would they know what sign she's born under? Did she answer some questions back in the prisons too? She can't remember. It was quite a while now. She scratches her red-brown hair slightly, a bit uncomfortable.

"Erm, the Lover. I'm eh, born in Sun's Dusk."

Socucius gazes at the documents received from the capital and nods as scribbles down some more notes on the parchment, as well as writing something on another parchment right next to it.

"I don't understand why this is of import-"

He interrupts her before she continues. "Very interesting, yes. I think that ends our little pre-release questions." The breton then signs the document and stands up, moving to her side of the table.

"Just sign the end here with a little mark."

She gazes at him skeptically. Something just doesn't feel right to her with this release. Of course it hasn't done since the start but as she looks at the document, seeing the decree of Emperor Uriel Septim VII himself, doesn't make her any less nervous. Not that she's got a choice anyhow, so signing the release is all she can do.

Socucius then takes a bit of wax that's been warmed up, dips some of it on the bottom of the paper and pushes the imperial seal on it.

He rolls it up and hands it to her.

"Show your papers to the Captain when you exit to get your release fee."

Jollain reluctantly take the paper and stands up, the treasures of the room now far away from her mind.

She's got no choice but to leave the room, with the same imperial guard following her out.

On the way to the Captain her mind is flooded with thoughts of conspiracies or worries of what they might be doing with her. Are they really releasing her even? Or is this an intricate plot of some kind? They seem to be imperials, sure, but she's not exactly certain if they're doing the Emperor's job or if there's something else behind this. Perhaps some sort of kidnapping scheme by the Legion.

Her thoughts are interrupted as she finds herself opening the door to a new kind of office, although certainly similar to the one before. A younger man than the elderly breton sits in this one however, and the man being an imperial with a rather square and hard chin. The two of them look at another before he reaches out with his hand to her and she twitches, realizing what he wants, she lifts her hand and moves the papers into his. He is a rather handsome man, but she's still taken aback by the rather large armor around him, marking him as the most finely dressed so far and certainly the most imposing.

"Thank you. Word of your arrival only reached me yesterday. I'm Sellus Gravius, Knight-Errant and Captain of the Imperial Legion."

Jollain gives him an uncertain look. Do these people not know what's going on either?

"Yesterday? Is this usually what happens with prisoners shipped here?"

Even Sellus gains a troubled look as he shakes his head. At least this man seems more talkative. "Not exactly, no. Look, I'm going to be frank with you. I don't really know why you're here, or why you were released and shipped over to us.

But I should repeat like it says in your papers, that the authorization was given by the Emperor Uriel Septim VII himself. And to be honest, I don't really need to know more than that.

After you get out of here, you're really a free woman...to an extent."

Okay, here it comes. Jollain frowns and tries to give the man as hard of a look as she can. "To an extent? Elaborate, please."

Sighing, the Captain fishes out a bag of gold coins from a chest, a release fee of 87 drakes. "Aye. I have instructions on your duties. Instructions from the Emperor."

This only makes Jollain's frown deeper. "Wait, what? Duties? I was just released from prison! I'm not some stuck up legionnaire, goddammit!"

Sellus don't really take kindly to insults to his station nor his order. The Imperial Legion are proud of what they do and where they come from. "Listen to me now, woman. You're in the middle of a strange land that you don't know a thing about and all you have is the clothes on your back and this little bag of coins.

I don't know why you're supposed to do any of this or why you're here, but the Emperor sent you here for a reason. You're free to go out of here if you wish, but what are you really, hmm? A lowly cut purse from the dung of the capital? A robber? A bandit or murderer? It doesn't really matter. You've been sent and released here by the ruler of our awe-inspiring Empire for some reason, Divines know why. Whether you like it or not, this is an opportunity for you. Are you going to see it as that or take your chances with the road instead, huh? Best be watchful then, so not some kagouti or nix-hound devours you on the way."

Jollain has her arms crossed and gives him a defiant look still. She's not about to just take his insults and she doesn't give a rat's ass about whether the Emperor sent her here or not.

Then again, he does have a point. This is an opportunity, of sorts anyhow. Whatever it is, there might be some coin involved in this. Working for the most powerful man in the realm ought to involve that, right?

Besides, not knowing at all what either of those things are that he just mentioned, doesn't make her feel very comfortable nor confident, so she sees little choice other than to agree to these terms. Sighing in defeat, she closes her eyes as well.

"Fine. Fine, I agree to it then. What are my, ugh, 'duties'?"

The Captain nods and stands up, moving towards another chest more towards the back of the room and fishes up a small box in his hands and hands it to her.

"This package came with the news of your arrival. You are to take it to Caius Cosades, in the town of Balmora. Go to the South Wall cornerclub - they'll know where to find him. Serve him as you would serve the Emperor himself."

Waiting for further orders, she just stares at the imperial. "That's it? Nothing else? Who's Caius Cosades?"

The Captain offers her nothing more than a shrug. "No idea. Head to the cornerclub, they'll know. That's all I've been instructed to say." He sighs slightly then, rubbing his forehead.

"It's all very mysterious, I know. But that's how the Empire works. Silence. Secrecy. Let not the left hand know what the right hand is doing."

Jollain takes the package and the bag of coins, feeling them in her hand. It feels good to hold some gold in her hand once more. It's not a whole lot but probably enough to get her some good meals here at least.

"Right. So how do I get to this Balmora place? Is there any carriages or something heading over there?"

Looking up at her once more, he raises an eyebrow. Sellus then realizes she just arrived here for the first time. "No no, this is Vvardenfell. Out of this office, cross the bridge and head east. Look for a dark elf named Darvame Hleran up on the top of the hill."

Getting no more instructions nor explanations, she merely looks confused albeit intrigued and heads outside.

Walking past the buildings in the little town of Seyda Neen, she soon sees something that shocks her as she approaches the dunmer lady that the Captain spoke about. She can't help but express her shock.

"What in all of Oblivion is that?!"

The largest and perhaps because of the size, the most terrifying creature she's ever witnessed stands close to some sort of dock and she hears an almost mournful howling noise echoing from it. It looks like a giant insect of some sort, most likely above 20 meters tall.

The female dunmer, Darvame, approaches her and looks rather amused. "Hah, you've never seen a silt strider before, outlander? Well then, welcome to Morrowind."


	3. Over Odai, under Tong

Buzzing sounds irritate her ears, which twitches slightly when something touches them. The humid and putrid air flows in through her nose even though she holds her hand over it to somehow prevent it from penetrating her system, while her eyes at the same time is distracted by a huge floating bulb with long hanging tentacles goes by them in the distance.

"The Bitter Coast it's called, although some people like to call it 'Smuggler's Coast', which I suppose is justified with all the rabble around here."

The dunmer caravaner, Darvame Hleran which she's introduced herself as, seems to have a little bit of that bitterness in her as well. At least that's how Jollain judges her by the tone. The little bosmer has an impending sense of discomfort all around this place. The silt strider they ride on make it's odd mournful howling most of the time as it walks, and not only is it very tall and making Jollain feel like she might fall off, she doesn't know whether or not she actually want to touch the beast enough to actually hold on.

She does feel a bit ridiculous that just because it's a giant bug she feels creeped out, but that doesn't really diminish the feeling. It's not all bad though, because even as irritated and uncomfortable as she feels, there's still a lingering sensation of excitement somewhere deep beneath the surface at seeing this wondrous new land. Well, at least to her it's rather new. She's been around a little bit in certain parts of Cyrodiil, but mostly just around some major cities and the only things you can ride there are horses, something she's never really been given the opportunity for either.

"What's this place we're going to?" she asks, as she raises her hand to her own head to try to kill one of the minor insects on her ear, a mosquito most likely. The only thing she manages to do is give herself a slap.

The caravaner glances over her shoulder at her passenger. "Balmora? It's a nice enough place, I suppose. It's at the southernmost edge of an area we call the West Gash, a rocky scrubland. To most outlanders, it's all they know of Morrowind really so that might be good for you to see."

Darvame doesn't seem as concerned about anything around her, neither the insects, the humid air nor about the fact that she's holding some sort of nerves or other things that stick out from the silt strider to control it. Perhaps that's how she'll also feel once she's been here a while.

"Other than that, it's the seat of House Hlaalu in Vvardenfell, and quite a good city for trade as it's situated over the Odai River."

Great. Some sort of noble house most likely and as the letter she received didn't say a thing about Morrowind nobility or really anything in particular. Perhaps they just expect her to find out on her own.

She coughs, knowing this probably will sound pretty stupid to a native.

"Ah, House Hlaalu. Right, right. And uh, who are they again?"

Raising her eyebrow, the dunmer peer over her shoulder at her bosmer companion. "Don't they teach you outlanders anything about Morrowind?"

"Hey, I dunno! Look, I wasn't really some scholar or whatever before I came here! Just help me out, so I won't look all too stupid when we get to the city." She grabs her bag with gold and shakes it; the clattering of gold coins can be heard from it. "I'll throw in something extra for it."

_At least this outlander speaks my language, _the caravaner thought as she continued. 

* * *

As the sounds and sights of people flood her senses, Jollain tries to find her way through the different alleys and corners in the city of Balmora. The sand-colored houses are oddly shaped to her and if they're made by stone which she doubts, it's the most odd looking stone she's ever seen.  
While the populace seems to be dressed in clothes strange in both shape and color, at least it seems to be of some sort of cloth she can recognize. The guards however, clearly dunmer most of them, walk around in armor that not only looks like it belongs to some sort of hardened plating or hide from a creepy animal around here it's also shaped very oddly over their bodies. The little slot they have for their eyes, surely it must blind them to most around rather than aid them? Perhaps she should stop thinking about how weird everything is.

She doesn't feel like speculating any further on that as she don't care enough for trying to attain some herself and she's not gonna try her chances at asking a guard anyhow. The surly locals here would most likely take it as an insult and she just got here and do not intend to sit in prison again. At least not for a while. Perhaps it'd be worth trying out more directly though if she can manage to find something nice to attain in the not-so-legal way.

Unfolding the note she received from the Imperial Captain, she grumbles about some parts of it.

_Remember. You owe your life and freedom to the Emperor. Serve him well, and you will be rewarded. Betray him, and you will suffer the fate of all traitors._

Serve? She's not a damn servant nor has she ever planned to be. Sure, she was "freed", but it felt more like an exile to be sent out here without a say in the matter.

Her thoughts are interrupted however, as she hears some ruckus ahead of her. The alley she walks through ,as she tries to make her way to the corner tavern or club inn or whatever it was they called their places here, is mostly empty. That is until she sees three men comes running through it. Three dunmers from the looks of it and all male. The foremost one of them is a rather short one, with necklong black hair hanging down over the sides of his head and a thin black beard adorned around his mouth. He's wearing an assortment of dark blue, dark green and white robes albeit unmarked. There's a brown satchel hanging over his left shoulder.

The other two behind him are both clean shaven and with rather short hairs as well, one of them dressed in a heavier armor of some sort, probably chain mail, and the other in black leather. They're both running with swords in their hands, while the robed one seems unarmed for the time being.  
"Help! Help, they're gonna kill me!" The panicked man in the front yells as he seems to be running for all his worth away from the two others.  
He gazes at Jollain as he keeps running but is forced to continue as she just puts up her arms and puts her back to the wall to let them pass by.  
The thugs continue in around the corner after the man with the satchel, in through another alley.  
It's best not to involve herself in whatever matter they got going here. She's not a fighter after all.

Back in the next alley, the robed man makes his way in through another corner, hoping to find some other path to escape his pursuers, but unfortunately finds himself cornered as the alley ends in a wall.  
"Oh c'mon, lady luck! Why do you hate me so?!" he yells as he bashes the wall with his hand.  
That's all he can do until he freezes up, hearing the foot steps behind him. The other two men are taller and definitely larger and physically stronger than him.

"End o' the line, Raivez. Even though you've made us run halfway across town, I'll be fair. Hand over the bag to me and I promise I'll only cut off one of your hands."  
The man in black leather, holding his sword pointed at the robed man, has a few piercings through his ears and over his left eyebrow. The armored one has a nasty scar across his mouth and both seem rather intent on cutting him up as well, which is understandable. He has made them chase after him for a little while now. Probably warm with all that heavy armor, in this heat.  
"Can't promise what my partner will do, though."

Raivez turns around, looking at them and tries a meekly and nervous chuckle as he lifts his hands. "Now now, friends, let's not do this. This was just a little joke! I only wanted to test your mettle, that's all! Gotta try out the competition, right?"

The men aren't laughing back at him and the black leather clad one pushes his sword close, almost touching his nose by now.

"Remember that it was you who made this choice, Raivez. Not me." he says while grabbing his shoulder and pushing the young man against the wall.  
While Raivez let's out a pathetic cry of fear, another cry can be heard from his partner behind them. The armored dunmer feels a hard kick against his the back of his shin, enough to hurt him quite a bit and loose his footing. At that point, his attacker manages to snatch the dagger from his belt and slice him across one of his knees, making him fall to the ground.  
His partner turns around, shocked at this sudden turn of events and notices the bosmer they saw in the previous alley. She grins at him and gives him a teasing little wave.

"You little bitch! I'm gonna cut you up, like a little-" is all he manages to let out from his mouth before Raivez lifts his hands, channeling energy in them and makes it explode in front of him. The magical essence shoots out and while they are quite unstable, it's enough to send the man flying across the ground, into a wall so hard that he passes out and slowly slides down against it.

Jollain and Raivez gives each other a quick look before making a run for it together, out of the alley. They don't really stop until they're at least four blocks away from the scene, both of them out of breath as they lean across the wall.

The sorcerer gives his partner in crime a gaze and then a nod of appreciation.  
"Thanks. Damn, thought that was the last of my breath takes I'd ever get. I owe you one."

"Damn straight you do. Do I look like a fighter to you? I wasn't gonna attack them while they were right in my face, you idiot!"

Jollain shakes her head, but Raivez turns to look at her, eyeing her a bit further. She looked rather good, for a bosmer, and she seemed to have some sort of skill in the stealthy arts. He could have use for that.

"Well either way, I owe you for saving me." He dusts his robes off a little bit and then tries to offer his best smile as well as his hand to her. "I'm Raivez. Raivez Odelana. I'd like to call myself mage extraordinare, if you don't mind."

The bosmer peers at him and first just blinks and then bursts out laughing. He remains standing like that for a few seconds, feeling rather stupid and coughs slightly, a bit uncomfortable with this outlander mocking him.  
Then she grins and looks up, shaking his hand firmly.  
"I'm Jollain and I think I'll be taking a piece of whatever is in your bag, plus some directions to the South Wall cornerclub."


	4. A swig and a miss

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls series nor any of the characters that belong to it. All rights reserved for Bethesda._

Author's note: I recently updated Chapter 1 and 2 now as well. Noticed that they needed some cleaning up, with misspells and weird grammatical errors being all over the place.

* * *

"Camonna Tong?"

The words uttered came along with a slightly grimacing face. Greef was apparently the name of the drink that she'd been given by her new companion, the dunmer sorcerer Raivez. He claimed to be one anyhow and there was some magical things coming out of his fingers towards the men they'd been fighting about an hour ago, so she took his word for it in this matter.

It wasn't all too long ago that they arrived at the tavern in the working class district of town, South Wall cornerclub. Jollain had inquired why they used that word for their inns and taverns and the dunmer's only response really was to ask why they don't. Fair enough point, she supposed.

"Aye, they're a local...group of criminals or a gang, I guess you can call them."

Greef wasn't really the most tasty of brandy that she'd ever had. She preferred the many different wines you could buy, find or steal back in the Imperial City. Although of course, she was most used to the cheapest stuff she could purchase in the Feed Bag.

"What, similar to the thieves guild or something?"

That makes Raivez cough slightly after having a sip of his own drink. Taking a quick look around him to see that no one is looking their way as they sit by a table in the corner of one of the lower floors of the cornerclub, he leans closer to her and lowers his voice.  
"Not quite. I'd rather use the term...'organized bandits'. They're not the friendliest bunch of people around here and they absolutely despise outlanders."

Jollain can't help but grin lazily and shakes her head. "From what I've seen after just half a day in this place, they're not the only ones. I've gotten suspicious looks from just about everyone I've walked by so far, like I'm gonna nick their coin purse or something."

_Then again, perhaps that's a valid criticism. I might just have done that anyway_, she thought to herself.

"Hey now, not all of us think poorly of outlanders! Some of us see the use in a wide variety of people in Morrowind. My own little group quite agrees with me."

"Your own group?"

Raivez tries to correct his robes a bit, rolling his shoulders and stealing a look around the room again.  
"Well you see, the fellows you saw earlier were chasing me because we're sort of...competitors."

"Competitors? In what way? So you're in a rivaling gang?" The bosmer has her eyebrow raised in inquiry but she understands the spirit of the conversation quite well enough to lower her voice.

"What? No no, nothing like that! Or well, some would perhaps call us as such, but I prefer the term, erm...'shadowy artists'." Okay, that did make him feel a bit stupid, but can't really claim openly to be a thief, can he? Somehow that didn't feel like it fit the role description.

It does give Jollain reason to show off one of her lovely smiles, even though this one appears more as a knowing smirk. "I think that's one of the fanciest ways to call someone a thief."

"Shh!" Raivez looks around again. He knows however that most in here don't really mind what he is, after all most of them are part of the guild, which is why he dared to speak openly about it here. He even believed that's why this woman might've come here. Why else would a fellow mer, an outlander at that, come to this cornerclub?

"Well, yes I am part of the guild and unfortunately, the local Camonna boys are well-informed about that. We're not free to stroll around in the high class areas as much as they are. An advantage of being in the pockets of House Hlaalu."

"Hah, so there was a branch here too eh? I had heard from our own back in the capital that there's side branches in the other provinces."

Jollain had leaned back and crossed her arms and seemed to understand what he means, and so he runs up his hand to his chin, rubbing his beard thoughtfully while his other arm leans against the table to hold his mug of greef. "So you are part of the guild as well then? And in the Imperial City too, very fascinating." He takes a sip while trying to figure out the situation.

In the meantime, his fellow guildmember across the Valus mountains changes the tone a bit of the conversation. She has a slight smirk on her lips still as she looks at him.  
"So, you're a mage-thief? Never heard of one like that. I thought all mages were stuck up pricks in that other guild."

Getting thrown out of his thoughts, he blinks and gazes back into her hazel eyes. "That other gui-..  
Oh, of course. The Mages guild. Well erm, not all of us see the use in compressing into one single group of close-minded fools! Trebonius and his lackeys can go to Oblivion for all I care."

Feeling like she's got something on him now, she grins with confidence and slowly leans across the table.  
"They kicked you out, didn't they? For stealing too, I bet."

With a flustered look on his face, either from embarrassment or anger, he shakes her hand at her. "T-that's not true! Not true at all! I just didn't feel like I needed them, that's all!"

Jollain giggles slightly and then tilts her head, while sitting up straight once more. "What kind of ways does a mage steal in anyhow? I mean, you don't seem to be the man that makes for a good cut purse."

"Pft, obviously you don't understand the wide use of magic! A muffle spell to silence my steps and using my quick wit, I can do just as well as any of you more sneaky folks!"  
He lifts his mug and takes a large swig of his greef, noticing he manages to drink pretty much what's left of it.  
Setting it down, he sighs slightly as well. "Then again, I suppose I'm not the best cut purse. I'm better at theft in the sense of breaking in through someone's door or window. Magic does have it's uses there. The school of illusion is useful for muffling my steps and the school of alteration can get me through locks without having to use any picks. Of course, if I had skills enough to use an invisibility spell, I'd probably be the best thief in Morrowind..."

Jollain smiles more gently at him then. At least he has some humility.

"I wouldn't have thought that prissy spellcasters could make for good thieves. Never really met one who's tried, though. I'd love to see you work at some point."

His sulking thoughts slowly slip off him at those words and at the prospect of showing this pretty female around. He's not all too good at his charms though, so any chances of having that sort of fun are questionable.  
"Well, I'd love to show you, of course! Oh uh, I suppose it'd be good if you have a word with one of the handlers for the guild in Balmora first though. I can show you to Sugar-lips later."

"Sugar-lips?"

"Aye, she's one of local leaders here in Balmora. A quite witty khajiit. She's usually around here, although I dunno why she's not right now." He turns to her again, gazing at her with a pensive look.  
"Isn't that why you're here, though? I assumed the Cyrodiilic boys thought we had problems or perhaps wanted to get something traded with us, now that I hear you're in the guild over there."

Solemnly, the bosmer shakes her head now. Revealing why she's here is probably not a bad idea to a fellow refugee from the law. "Not exactly, no. I was actually sent here as a prisoner and freed once we arrived."

Now this was intriguing to the mage. A prisoner from the Imperial City?

"Fascinating. Why would the imperials send a prisoner all the way over here? Thieves here are usually thrown in prison or executed if they've stolen from the wrong person. Or was that a choice you made to get your freedom back, to be sent here?"

A bitter smile adorns the short thief's face then.

"Not really. I wouldn't choose to get sent away anyhow, if there'd been any choice involved at all. The reason why I'm here, I'm not exactly sure yet, but I'm gonna try to find out.  
I'm looking for someone, who I was told I could be lead to through this place. A man called Caius Cosades."

To Raivez, this makes even less sense now than it did before. By the Tribunal, why would they send her over here just to meet him?  
"What? The imperials sent you here to talk to a skooma addict?"


	5. With hands unfurled

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls series nor any of the characters that belong to it. All rights reserved for Bethesda._

Uncertainty instilled itself within Jollain's mind as she moved through the sand colored streets of Balmora. If what Raivez had said was true, then the Emperor of Tamriel had sent her to speak to a skooma addict. Had he just gone mad or was he pulling a prank on her? The thought of that the Emperor would actually have any humor at all felt like madness in itself.

Nevertheless, she approached one of the smaller houses located in the north east corner of the city, moving through narrow alleys, ducking past lines of clothes hanging across open windows and dodging children running around playing. At least it looked like they were playing. They might as well have been fighting, she didn't really completely understand the customs here.

The house itself that was marked with nothing else than some sort of symbol that the bosmer supposed was meant to symbolize a street number, looked quite small. An old worn door made out of wood, a very small window situated right next to it and from what it looks like, the window had also been nailed and shut. She quickly got the feeling he was a reclusive type from the view of this place or perhaps he just didn't like the neighborhood much. Jollain understood it was part the poor district of town, but he seemed to belong to this place from the words Raivez had spoken.

She stopped right outside of his house and looked down. In her hand she now held the box that she was absolutely forbidden to open according to the Captain back in Seyda Neen. She had her coin pouch which had become a bit thicker thanks to her share of what Raivez had stolen, and she also kept the dagger after the fight previously this day, hidden under her belt. Of course, she also kept her own note in between her vest.

Seeing nothing else to do, she takes a deep breath and moves to the door, giving it a few firm knocks.

No response.

She tried again, this time a bit harder. Her brow furrows in irritation after yet several more seconds without a response. He's gotta be home, right? From the information, he almost never goes to any other place than his home and South Wall. Jollain starts to give up on that anyone was here and in anger at her situation, she kicks at the door... just as it opens.

Flinching, she steps back and moves away from it as she raises eyebrows in a surprised manner. She can hear a grunt inside and some muttering.

"Oops, eh...sorry!"

The door opens a bit further, and she tries to lean to the side to get a better look. The inside seems to be dark by the looks of it and it's hard to really see anything at all in there at this current moment. It's then that a man steps in front of her view. A half-naked man, dressed in nothing but a pair of cloth pants. His upper body is quite hairy although he doesn't really look overweight in any way, he's not exactly in shape either. At least not from a first look. Perhaps to be expected from an old bum like this.

His head is on the verge of going completely bald as well, with only some grey hair adorning the sides and back of. A pair of dark, tired human eyes gazes at her. He is most likely past his middle-age, perhaps around his 50s somewhere. Most importantly, he doesn't look happy and he doesn't look very welcoming.

When the imperial, which she assumes he is, speaks, it is with a hoarse and grumpy tone.

"What do you want? I was sleeping, curse you.."

Jollain let's her initial surprise slowly subside and then raises her left eyebrow in suspicion and crosses her arms, still with the box in one hand.

"Now? It's late afternoon and you look to be a wreck. Don't keep a very good schedule of your sleeping habits, do you?"

The old man does nothing more than glare at her, blinking his eyes slowly before slurring out a few more words, louder this time.

"I said, what do you want?! I'm having a rest and you're interrupting me. Either tell me what you want, or get out of my sight!"

Is this really the guy? This wreck of a man is who she's supposed to take orders from? He looks like he'd need his latest fix to think straight, and those words shouldn't even be thought of together with skooma. That's saying something.

Jollain rubs her forehead and before she snaps at him and takes his suggestion for real, she decides to step forward, moving the box towards him.

"You're Caius Cosades, right? I'm supposed to hand you this box."

Again, she initially gains nothing more than a stare from him as he gives the box a look. He seem a bit suspicious even and it leaves Jollain standing there for several more seconds before slowly reaching out to take it

"By who?"

"Just look in the damn box. It'll explain everything."

Caius turns it around in his hands and then moves inside the house as he begins to open it. The old man also leaves the door open, making Jollain just stand there outside of it. Is he gonna invite her in, or what?

Screw it. Even though the thought of being alone with this guy in his own home isn't pleasant, she forces herself to look around the block to see that it's mostly empty before moving in passed the open door and close it behind her.

The single room that makes up the whole house is quite a mess, even with nothing else in terms of furniture other than a simple bed, a table and a chair by said table. There's a chest with what looks like some supplies in a corner. Skooma bottles are sprawled out over the room as well, both a few on the table and a few on the floor. She can see them both out in the middle of it and under the bed.

He does also have a little shelf with some simple things such as some plates, urns and a candle; a candle that he seems to have lit just now. He sits on the bed, close to the light and reads what looks like a letter coming from inside the box she gave him.

As the only other seat in the room, Jollain sits down on the worn wooden chair and crosses her legs, holding her hands together as she makes herself as comfortable as possible while she wait.

It does take a while as the old man reads the content of the letter and his eyes stare intently at it, with a permanent scowling look on his face. He looks troubled but also deep in thought.

After around ten minutes of silence, which feels like an eternity, he turns his gaze up at her. The old dark eyes gives her a long surveying look, something that makes her a bit of discomfort. He doesn't really ogle her as far as she knows, but the systematic and analytic way he does it in, just gives her a weird sensation and she doesn't like that.

"So... I'm supposed to take orders from you, or something?"

There's not really any answer at first, which is to be expected by now. Either this man is very slow, very stupid or really creepy. That can be the only explanation to it.  
"You were in the Thieves Guild, weren't you?

Putting aside the fact that he doesn't answer her question, his own feels very direct and it's something she's not ready for. His dark eyes gazes at her, as if they bore right into her. It makes the little wood elf hesitate and as a defensive manner she can't even stop, she crosses her arms. Trying to look a bit tougher, she adds a half-hearted frown to it. Unfortunately it doesn't look that convincing.  
"I, uh w-what about it?"

Caius eyes doesn't even blink, it looks almost like he doesn't breathe either as still as he sits. She's not sure that's the answer he wanted.  
"What was your skill? Lockpicking? Picking pockets?"

Why would he ask this? What does it matter? Surely whatever the Emperor wrote to this guy, he should know right?  
"Uh, y-yeah, I was a pickpocket."

Her voice now sounds a bit smaller, like she's not so certain speaking about her skills to this man. Before, while he looked like a miserable old man, he now has a sort of air of authority around him or at the very least one that demands answers.

"Good. I want you to do something for me. I want you to steal 200 drakes, purely through pickpocketing. It has to be on the western side of the Odai River and it may only be from either guards or people who look like they got enough gold to live well, based on how they dress and act. No stealing from the beggers or the poor. And no more than 10 coins from a single person. Got it?"

He gave the orders with a straight face, while still looking directly in her eyes. Somehow, without even thinking, she managed to snap it all up in her mind and nods instinctively. Then she shakes her head, realizing she just agreed to something she wasn't ready for.  
"Wait. Wait! You want me to steal from people? That's what the Emperor asked me to do?"

He doesn't seem to be in the business of answering her, a business he seems to enjoy.  
"You have an hour."  
Caius proceeds to lay down on his bed and turn his back to her, leaving Jollain standing there shocked, her mouth gaping without knowing what to say. Nothing more? No answers or anything? Was this a challenge of some sort or a test to prove her worth?  
He didn't really look like a guy who'd be in the Thieves Guild. He doesn't really blend in...well, anywhere really.  
But if this is how he wanted it, she'd show him just how good she was. The best goddamn thief in Imperial City.  
Well, at least she hadn't gotten caught that much. Let's hope the Morrowind guards were just as inattentive as those in the capital.

* * *

Luck proves to be on her side. Or perhaps she's just on a roll. Moving like a mouse in between the legs of giants, Jollain's nimble fingers move in through the different pockets and pouches while she snatches the coins she needs and is out long before anyone even notices. It's likely they won't even notice, what with the amount of coins they walk around with.

It goes so well that before even half the time has passed by from her estimates, she's already attained what she needs. It doesn't stop her however. She goes even further and manages to have at least 320 coins in her new pouch, something she stole from someone on the way to that amount, just to be able to hold all of it.

She held herself to the 10 gold per person limit, although she wasn't sure why. How would Caius know if she did or not? It's not like there was any difference in the look from coin to coin. No one really marked theirs or anything. A few scratches here or there, but nothing major, nothing that would expose her if she did.  
Call it paranoia or something, but she decided not to risk it. She did however, want to show off to him that she would not be limited to 200 as a maximum. That it was a score she'd easily break and it was all pure skill.

With a grin on her face, she gazes once more upon his little shack and walks towards it, proudly throwing the pouch up in the air a few times, catching it easily. The weight of the coins inside feels all too good to get a grasp on. It's been a good while after all.  
This time she doesn't even knock as she enters, instead just barges right inside.  
"Get up, old man! I've done your little task! I know it's not gone an hour yet but I thought as I'd already broken your stupid limit a long time ago, I figured I might as well come back here."  
Stirring from his sleep, he sighs a bit, yawning as he turns around and gets out of bed. He rubs his eyes and looks at the short elf as she, with a smug look on her face, throw the bag unto his rickety old table with the coins making a very satisfying rattling sound. He eyes the bag, then looks up at her before he descends unto his chair.

"320 coins! I counted every single one. And in less than an hour!"

Just giving the bag a look for a couple of seconds in silence, he then gazes up at her again. There's no disapproval, but not really any look of being impressed either.  
"I said 200."

"Tsk, so I did a few more than that. Who cares? I totally nailed it! And didn't even go above the 10 coin per person limit."

The praise she awaited, or at the very least, some form of recognition from him, didn't actually come. He just sat there looking at the bag. Then slowly moving his arm unto the table, he taps his forefinger unto it.

"Open the bag."

Her smug look disappear and instead one of confusion sets upon her.  
"Sorry, what?"

"I said, open the bag."

She wasn't really sure what this was all about. It brought a discomfort to her just like before and made her nervous. Doing as he told her however, she grabbed the pouch and pulled it open. She looked into it, and her eyes turned to shock.  
The hand which is not holding the bottom of it, starts digging through it, seeing the coins. It's not exactly what she expected. "W..what's going..on?"

"Pour it out. Right on the table."

With a look of shock still on her face, she starts pouring out the coins as instructed. But not the golden drakes she'd been stealing for almost an hour, but instead odd cylinder shaped copper coins. That was only something someone ever used in deals to trick people. Copper coins didn't really have any good value in the Tamrielic market. At least not to the extent that 320 gold coins would have.  
While Jollain still looks horrified at her discovery, Caius stands up and moves towards his chest. He grabs a key from the shelf on the wall and unlocks it and takes something from it and then locks the chest again, returning the key to it's place.

Then he proceeds to throw another bag right on top of the sprawled out copper coins. Jollain twitches as it happens, having been in her own train of thoughts and eyes the new bag. It looks suspiciously much like her own. She moves her hand to it and while swallowing in dread of what she'll see, she opens it.  
There they are. The gold coins that she could've sworn was her own, the ones she stole. From a first look she can't tell if they're 320 or not, but it has to be.  
"I don't understand... how in all of Oblivion did you do that?"

The befuddled thief stares at him in belief and slightly in anger. Did he steal from her? Did he use some sort of foul magical trick?!  
She gazes at him, seeing him only in his worn cloth leggings. He doesn't look particularly agile, or at least not very stealthy. There's no possible way that this man could ever have done this.  
"You're thinking it's impossible, don't you?"  
His question breaks her train of thoughts again.

"You're good, I give you that. But you gotta be more attentive. With a bit of wit and swiftness, just about anyone could take it all under your nose. Even an old skooma addict."

This man definitely isn't who he seems to be. A new sense of respect for him starts to instill itself in her, replacing the uncertainty and doubt.  
"I...I dunno what to say." She looks again at the gold, at the coins mixed together on the table. He did it all without her even noticing that anything was going on, something she'd think was impossible. No one was that good, at least not in the Imperial City.  
"I wanna know how you did it. Can you teach me?"

"That and much more. But there's a price."

Swallowing again, she starts to get excited. Getting thrown off the boat after a long trip through the sea, this wasn't what she had expected when she'd arrive.  
"And what would that be?"

He slowly stands up, looking at her once again with that air of authority, with determination and confidence.  
"Loyalty and duty. And stubbornness too, I'd wager. Would you be ready to join me, to listen to everything I have to say, and follow my orders to the letter? I don't let just about anyone in and I want dedication from you or else I'm not teaching you guar's dung."

Thoughts rolled through her mind, decisions and options. This had to be big, much bigger than what she could possibly imagine. But he's managed to convince her this way, that it may be worth it. And she hasn't even been here a day.  
"I'm willing to do it. If you'll teach me, I'll listen to your orders. Whoever you are, I wanna learn how and why it is you do what you do."

He offers his hand to her and they join in a firm handshake.  
"Very good, Jollain. I'm expecting much from you, just as much as the others under my command. Welcome to the Blades."


	6. Bottom of the glass

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own The Elder Scrolls series nor any of the characters that belong to it. All rights reserved for Bethesda._

Author's note:

Okay so, this chapter didn't turn out exactly as I had anticipated. I hoped to put some more stuff in there, but it was getting a little bit too wordy for me, and I do wanna keep most of these chapters sort of manageable and not all too big, so I can get myself to write them more often (even if it's been a while since the last..) but at least this one should show a little bit of what's going on with the little bosmer!

* * *

The pointed iron shook slightly in its place. The wooden end of it was not being properly held steady and so the tip could not be focused correctly either. Inexperience was tainting the actions and as its let loose, it flies far above its intended target and just a split second later slamming hard into a stone wall and shatters most of it. At least the power of the attack was quite well within the intended parameters.

"Dammit! Why's this so freaking hard?!"

Jollain grits her teeth as she throws the bow to the ground, having missed yet another arrow during this day of training. As she does, one of the two people at her side can't help but chuckle slightly, not having seen such impatience and frustration in a long time with someone who's practising.

"C'mon Jollain. Almost had it that time! I know you'll get it right eventually."

It's been a few days at this point, since the bosmer decided to take the invitation into the Emperor's Elite Order, the Blades. Not that her skills could really be classified as being "elite" at this point, but this was why she had been assigned a trainer to raise what she was lacking.

Caius Cosades, the elderly Imperial leader of the Morrowind branch of the Blades was here at this day to watch her progress but it was the other one, the one currently trying to help raise her spirits, who she's mostly been training with. A woman more physically fit than her, with darker skin and black braided hair coming most likely from the far western lands of Hammerfell, Elone was definitely a Redguard.  
From what Caius had told Jollain, Elone was drafted into the Blades because of her talents early on in different sorts of fighting styles, with long blades being her foremost one, but she was capable of wielding all sorts of melee weapons well enough in a fight. She may not have been as adept with the bow, but far more so than what the bosmer could currently claim.

"How is anyone capable of holding this shit right? A blade you can at least just swing, there's no aiming needed!"  
Elone and Caius stood to the side, leaning back against the wall of the place they were in. Elone's house was usually the location where the majority of their training was done in this part of Morrowind, as the house had a big enough basement to put in a good amount of practise dummies and boards for blade and archery training. The Redguard found Jollain's spirit fitting enough for the Blades, but her patience could use some honing. Caius however, had mostly been observing her in silence and did so still. What was on his mind was anybody's guess.

Picking up her weapon once more, Jollain sighs and grabs a new arrow from the quiver she had on her back. Elone walks forward and helps adjusting her stance, pulling the arm holding the arrow back a bit and pushing it down slightly, as well as separating her legs to a moderate degree.

"I never thought that I'd find a bosmer who didn't know how to use a bow properly."

"Well sorry, not all of us grew up in Valenwood worshipping trees!"

She fires her arrow, this time after Elone's adjustments and it flies forward with a bit less power behind it, however it does find its path true and well enough onto the board – even if it's just barely enough to hit the furthermost circle of it.

After having held her breath, Jollain exhales, with a look of surprise on her. Her first hit – it did take quite some time and it was far from the cleanest shot – but it hit where it was supposed to.

Elone smiles and puts her hands together for a small applause.

"Well done! Your very first well placed shot! See? Told you that it was possible. Just wait and see, in a couple of weeks, you'll be hitting that bulls eye.

The smile that had appeared on her lips quickly disperses.  
"A couple of weeks? How long am I supposed to be here?"

Her trainer merely smirks and shakes her head, crossing her arms as she moves back to lean against her spot by the nearby wall again.  
"What, you didn't actually think you'd become an expert in a couple of days, would you? Training takes time, and even after you work this out, hitting moving targets are far from as easy as the ones standing still."

Jollain's shoulders slowly slump down as does her expression but Caius, who's been quiet most of the time, opens his mouth then.

"Nevertheless, you're making progress, Jollain. It'll take a while, but eventually you'll be doing missions together with the rest of us."

His words manages to affect her at least a little bit, enough to make her stand up once more and feel that she should continue her training. His encouragement has helped her during the few days she's been around these people, and she does get the feeling that it will continue to do so.

The half-naked Imperial leans off the wall and heads for the door, with Jollain gazing after him.  
"Leaving now? I just got one hit in so far!"

"And I'm sure you'll get plenty more in my absence. I have some business to attend to, but continue your training with Elone. We have time enough for it."

Raising her eyebrow, Jollain grabs another arrow from her quiver. "Time enough? Am I on some sort of deadline?"

The room remains quiet as he exits the basement.

* * *

As evening approaches, the flow of coins and different varieties of liquids start to increase around the city, and there's of course no difference in the South Wall cornerclub, one that the agile bosmer steps in through as she looks around for both something to drink and a certain companion of hers.  
Going around by the bar and ordering a mug of Greef, she looks around the lower floor until she manages to locate her spellcasting dunmer friend. She hasn't had much time lately to speak with Raivez and she's also been forced to turn down a few offers of jobs from him but, her body has begun to itch. Or perhaps her mind has. The itch to make some drakes and goods exchange owners – that would be to her ownership, in not-so-legal ways.

Raivez looks up and smiles at Jollain as she approaches and he motions towards one of the chairs at the side, offering her a warm smile as well.  
"My friend! It's good to see you again. You've been awfully busy huh? How are you feeling?"

Jollain sets down her mug on the table as a precaution before sitting down on her chair, as it stings and hurts in several places of her body.  
"…sore. I've been uh, training a lot."

"Training?" Being a bit confused, he raises his eyebrow quite curiously.  
"What exactly are you training for?"

"Well, feels like I can make myself more useful that way. You know, so I don't get thrown into jail over here as well. I've heard that's even less 'pleasant' than a trip to the Imperial City's prison is."  
She's chosen, at least for now, to keep her membership of the Blades hidden from him. Caius had advised her as much and she trusted his word in this. The Emperor's agents probably shouldn't really tell exactly who they were and what they were doing anyway. Not that she felt like much of an agent.  
There is however, another member sitting by the table, and this one is neither man nor mer, but a furry little creature with brown and sand colored exterior.  
"And who's this?"

Raivez turns from Jollain to the other female and smiles, although still talking to the bosmer.  
"This my friend, is Sugar-lips Habasi, which I think I've spoken about before! Our delightful local manager!"

The Khajiit speaks with an accent that most of her kind seems to speak with, added with the slightly growling or purring mix, Jollain wasn't sure which, in the background of her voice.

"Mm, not sure if that is the right word for this one, but I suppose it'll be fine. Yes, this one is who everyone calls Sugar-lips. Best not to ask why, little elf.

Habasi heard you may be interested in work, yes?"

Taking a sip of her drink, she contemplates this. It seems like the Thieves Guild still finds an interest to invite her in.  
"Maybe. Got something of interest? I wouldn't really say no to some drakes."

The cat-lady's lips curl up into a slight smirk and her tail behind her twitches delightfully.

"As a matter of fact, we do." She leans forward, lowering her voice slightly, forcing Raivez and Jollain to do the same motion.  
"We've heard of a big shipment coming in very soon, from the main land. A lot of stuff for House Hlaalu. Some of it will go to those foul-playing bastards in Camonna. We figured, why not let them share it a bit with us, hmm?"

Jollain scratches her cheek in contemplation.  
"A heist on Hlaalu's manor? That seems kinda risky… wouldn't you need more preparations for that?"

"Tsk tsk, you doubt the Guild, little elf? Come now, of course we have distractions being set up right this moment! We managed to pay off some guards as well, which will make the whole deal a lot more interesting."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans her elbows on the table.  
"What is it you'd need me for then?"

"Well, as it happens, we could use someone up inside the mansion itself. This one trusts Raivez skills…to a point."

The dunmer crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, slightly flustered. "Hey now! I…my skills are adequate enough!"  
Having known this man for a while now, Jollain knows that he does take pride in his skills and feels quite defensive when it's properties are challenged. He's perhaps not as great as he assumes, which always makes the bosmer smirk.  
"..but, I suppose I could use some assistance."

"As I suspected." Sugar-lips crosses her arms and gazes at Jollain again. "So, we'd need someone who moves silently and quickly. Raivez is good at locks, but Habasi had heard you may have the skills we need for actually moving around in the mansion. I have some others, but if you're experienced.."

Jollain still smirks at Raivez, but gives the Khajiit a look as well.  
"I may be, yeah. Have done it before, but usually only played solo. Perhaps it's time for a team effort as well. What if there's guards actually inside the storage area, though?"

"Oh it's very likely there'll be guards. Perhaps even Camonna ones. You have to be very careful and avoid it as much as possible. Hopefully our distractions will work well enough to take most of them away, but just in case, we need someone experienced.  
If you're up for it, this one is ready to give you a good deal on the profits."

Grinning, she reaches out her hand to shake the Khajiits clawed one, before taking a good long swig of her Greef. The low-cost drink burned quite nicely in her throat at that point.  
"You just got yourself the best thief from the Imperial City!"


	7. Heist

_Disclaimer:__ I do not own The Elder Scrolls series nor any of the characters that belong to it. All rights reserved for Bethesda._

Night time was always Jollain's favourite. Unless one was facing a Khajiit, it was harder to get seen, people fear the dark and therefore sometimes are reluctant to approach anything they might notice in the shadows, as well as for her it was just comforting in a sense. It probably came with the fact of having been a thief most of her life, therefore sticking to the shadows was natural and the dark just flew to the top of your friends list.  
Of course, even the night could betray you; make you stumble on something you couldn't see or into the wrong person at the wrong time. It was a bit of a chance as well to try to do your job at night, but that was also part of the excitement. While it bestowed you with the necessary darkness that could make you near invisible, it also saw to provide a certain amount of risk that made it dangerous. And that same danger made it all the more fun in a way.

These thoughts were on her mind, while she and her companion - the ever confounding wizard-thief Raivez - sat and waited for the right signal. Jollain wasn't clear on the details exactly what was gonna happen, what sort of distraction they were gonna provide. Was it some sort of fire, or perhaps a fight breaking out in the middle of the street?  
Who cares. What was important was that it happened at all. They were hiding in one of the back alleys that were situated quite close to the place they called "High Town", where the actually heist was going to take place. Or from the place they were going to steal what they needed to, at least.

From the information she'd been given, the actual room that the goods were stored in, was going to have a window. Opening that and just throwing it out to Raivez and whomever else was going to be with him then should be the fastest plan to acquire as much of it as they could. Going in with too many people provided a larger chance to attain more, but apparently too much of a risk for the Guild to get exposed. So sending in a lone little bosmer seemed like the best plan. This was the part she wasn't so sure about herself. She did call herself the "best thief in the Imperial City" but that was just something she'd say to get their attention, something anyone would use – thieves, merchants, entertainers – to make it seem like they were better than they really were. Oldest trick in the book, but she didn't assume it would get her the task of sneaking in all by herself!  
Oh well, better make the best out of the situation. She's been through worse, as far as she can remember. Like trying to break into the cousin of the Emperor's ship two years ago. That wasn't the brightest plan they've ever had and yet it went fairly well. Well, they did get some treasures out, even if 70% of the members of the actual heist got imprisoned and some of them are still in there right now for that same job.

She snapped out of her train of thought however, when Raivez snaps his fingers in front of her eyes. "Hey, miss daydreamer, we gotta head out! Signal's been given."

"Yeah yeah, okay. I'm ready. Let's do this, skirt-boy." She grins at him, knowing he doesn't enjoy the little nicknames she throws at from time to time. At this moment she can't say she's really befriended anyone else than him so far. Caius and Elone have been good to her, but they seemed more like mentors rather than her friends. The dunmer mage had become something more than that, perhaps because of their similar origin and rebellious nature. He was also a mage that understood the value of a good sack of gold, so there was that as well perhaps.

They could hear a lot of noise coming from the road that lead to the front entrance of High Town, but the two of them snuck in from the back. It was surrounded by a slight wall as well, probably to protect it from the commoners all around them, but tonight, that wasn't gonna stop them. The guard tower inside the district itself was far too distracted by what was going on at the front and wouldn't notice two scurrying mice climbing across it and sneaking around the back towards the Hlaalu storage building.  
As they arrive at the backdoor to a rather long and two-storied place, Raivez focuses and a green light shines in his hands as he does. This was one of the few spells he was actually good at, involving the act of opening locked doors.  
After having cast the spell, he puts his hand towards the lock itself, his eyes closed during the whole making of it. A few seconds later, they can hear the distinct clicking sound of a door unlocking, and his eyes snaps open and glances at her.  
"Alright, there we go. I'll head over to the western side, third window, and wait for you. Try not to stumble on your own shoes in there, alright?"

Jollain simply rolls her eyes and taps his shoulder.  
"I'm pretty sure that walking on floors work the same way in all parts of Tamriel, smartass. Now get going."  
They walk past one another, as she pushes her hand to the handle and slides the door open. Now to follow the smell of gold…

* * *

Duty. It's a short word, and it has many different meanings, often being quite subjective. Perhaps like most words. To some it might mean a form of imprisonment, being forced to do something to serve your house, family or perhaps your nation. To others it could be a sense of honour, doing what's necessary and required of you for your home.  
Combined with the word "guard" in front however, just made it a whole lot less interesting. It narrows it down to what it really could mean and what you were supposed to do to fill its needs. Especially if said guard duty meant protecting a storage house which no one really gave a flying guar's dung about either.  
But the tall dunmer sitting on a chair in a rather large room at the bottom floor of it, by a desk at the side, having a mug of mazte in her hand, didn't really have much choice. The local Camonna boss had assigned her to this, and being one of the foot soldiers - simple thugs really - she had to do what she was told. There were two with her on the top floor as well, but they kept to themselves, and watched over the area around from the windows, having no interest in speaking to her.  
"Vylea, be a good girl and put that axe to use by guarding our crap.." she muttered to herself as she took another sip of the drink.

Some new goods had arrived a little while ago and as the Tong didn't trust even the Hlaalu guards to do their jobs, they sent a few of their own to look it over. And that usually meant a lot of sitting around for Vylea. Perhaps it'd be more interesting if she had someone to talk to or perhaps spar with, but she wasn't very well liked among the other members. She didn't know what to attest this to. Her older brother, one of the higher members of the Tong, blamed it on the fact that she was a bit intimidating to the others. She was very tall, not only for a woman but for a dunmer as well, taller than most others around and certainly most of the men as well. On top of that, she'd always liked fighting and she was quite good at it. She'd had use for those skills too when her brother brought her in among them, and she had to prove herself. A lot of "unofficial tests" were made against her when he was around, but a few right hooks to some chins and a few bloodied noses took care of that well enough.  
Unfortunately that didn't really earn her any friends, neither among the lowly scum at the bottom with her, nor at the top. Vylea herself thought it was mostly for the fact that she didn't like it here that much. She didn't mind a good fight here and there, but sometimes she just felt like what they did wasn't really right, no matter what her brother had told her. Or perhaps she just felt uncomfortable about the fact that she didn't like most of those she had to socialize with and therefore they didn't like her much either. That was a bit of an awkward mix and it put her in a tough spot. The best thing to do, and what she decided as well, was just to shut up and do as she was told. Unfortunately that also meant taking these sort of boring assignments, such as sitting in this shack. This mazte wasn't even really good either. Sure, it was really just some cheap crap, but they usually had a better version of this swill around Vivec City. Oh well, might as well get drunk if she's just gonna sit here. She'd hoped her brother would be around as well to be by her side, but as Camonna was trying to branch out, and he was among the outward faces especially to the Great Houses, he was currently off-island, apparently having headed off to Narsis which was one of the main seats for House Hlaalu.

Taking another swig of her drink, the last in the mug, she stands up and heads over to the cask to get another. They seemed to have a lot down here. Perhaps they knew that the cannon-fodder enjoyed a good bit of this piss of a drink. While pouring some of it down into her tankard, she hears a noise down the corridor. She first ignores it, but as it persists, with some sort of louder scratching or something of the like, she puts it down and heads over to the nearest torch on the wall and walks down the corridor. It's bound to be some damn little cave rat. Places like this always had an empty space here and there where those little bastards managed to crawl their way in.  
She moves her hand to the hilt of her large battleaxe and prepares herself to cleave some vermin apart.

* * *

Jollain's palm was pushing hard against her own mouth, trying to stop the noise of her breathing. What an utter rookie mistake! It's been too long since her last job, that much was certain. Right when going inside, she got the lower part of her leggings stuck in the door and then stumbled right across a few boxes sprawled out at the side. In the mess of it all, she'd heard a guard approaching, and she'd figured as much that there would be one. That's why she was given a dagger to defend herself after all, if the worst was to happen.

What she didn't expect however, was the size of the guard. A large female dunmer with a torch and massive axe had come looking around, ready to split her skull apart most likely, if she was seen. She'd not seen a woman that tall before, nor with a weapon that huge! Okay, she may have exaggerated the size of the weapon. It wasn't anything more than a normal battleaxe, but as she was approaching, and with how tall she was, it felt a lot bigger. Was this lady half-Nord or something?  
In either case, the much shorter elf had managed to throw herself in through the open door at the right side and hid behind the door. All she could hope for was that she'd pass her by, enough to give her time to proceed. She held her breath for several seconds, hearing the heavy boots clatter on the wooden floor.  
It seems like lady luck was on her side this night, as the guard slowly walked past her. Peering out, she could only see the back of the tall elf and her black hair tied in a low ponytail hanging down over it. This she took as her chance to make her escape from the area and as quickly as possible make her way to the room where the goods were stored.

The whole situation was almost invigorating. It'd been far too long since she'd done a good job like this. She was a bit rusty sure, but the pure rush of adrenaline of almost being caught sent her across the edge of excitement. While she may be in mortal danger, she was actually having fun with this. The door to the goods was locked, but she was fortunate enough to have brought her own tools and as this wasn't really the highest quality of locks, it went up within nothing more than a minute. Alright, even for a novice like herself.  
The room itself didn't exactly turn out to be a gold mine or anything, but a good trunk of drakes, boxes with some fine pieces of cloth, food and nice outlandish liquor made Jollain grin in confidence. On top of that, there was another box of some kind, locked much sturdier and also felt heavier. Perhaps it held some sort of artefact or treasure? It's not like she had time to look, but she'd make sure to throw it to the boys outside.  
She quickly opened the window, removing the wooden board that had been locked before it, and gave a signal wave outside. Raivez and three others quickly sprung forth from a nearby building, ready with bags and two wheelbarrows.

Jollain grins slightly once more and nods at them, letting out a slightly heightened whisper. "You ready for the load, boys?"

Raivez returns with an equal gesture. "Just hurry up, before anyone comes! There's a patrol nearby, who'll probably be back in a few minutes!"

Realizing the urgency, she quickly moves towards the boxes and starts lifting, trying to heave whatever she can outside.

* * *

"Wondering if I'm getting out of touch…"  
Vylea muttered to herself as she headed towards her chair once more. She was certain she'd heard something, but there'd been no rats or other vermin around the place. She was slightly disappointed, at least that'd given her something to do for a little while, but now she was suspecting that it was the guys upstairs just messing with her somehow.  
"Sure, mess around with the axe-wielding woman's mind…not like she'd come up there and split your skulls with it…"

More muttering, but the idea was rather tempting even though it was stupid. What would she have said that happened? Someone just happened to have jumped in through the roof and killed 'em both? Disposing of two bodies in the middle of the city wouldn't really be easy either, and she wasn't looking forward to the idea of dragging them across the streets.  
Perhaps she was going a bit nuts after all, as she's considering murdering two people for possibly making a bit of noise.

She puts the torch back and pours up the rest of the liquor in her mug and takes a big swig of it. She needs to relax, the quiet is getting to her it seems.  
But once more in the silence, she hears some noise, now further ahead in the building instead of by the back door.  
"Vylea, do not fall for their stupid scheme. Don't let them win this."  
She tries her best to ignore the noise coming from the western side. It's not very loud, but her sharp ears picks it up anyhow, sort of like a rustling noise now and again, or something scratching and scraping against the floor.

Finally she decides to glance towards the wall and to her surprise one of the doors, where a lot of the goods should be in, is slightly ajar. This time she figures it's best to check out if something is going on and slowly approaches it, a hand once more on her weapon.  
Taking a peek inside, to her surprise it's not a little vermin. It's a rather large one. A rather short figure is grabbing boxes of different kinds, most of the goods being in them, and lifting them over to the window.  
Vylea grits her teeth and kicks the door open.  
"Hey, put those fucking boxes down!"

The woman in front of her twitches and drops one of the items she was about to carry to the window and turns around. It doesn't look much like a dunmer as her skin isn't ashen. With her being rather short, it's likely a bosmer. And this pretty little girl chose the wrong night to steal from the Tong.  
She lifts her axe, not about to negotiate with thieves and sends it flying down right at her as she charges forth.  
She can hear a surprised yelp of "Oh shit!" just before the wood elf, to her own surprise, manages to get below her axe and jump sideways. Her weapon buries itself right into one of the boxes still remaining on the floor. It seems she's gotten away with quite a few, but it stops here.

"Stand still or I'll have to hurt you!"

"What?! You're trying to chop me in half and then tell me to stand still? Are you stupid?!"  
The other elf had unsheathed some sort of dagger or short sword, but she doesn't look very certain about actually using it. Perhaps it was her size. It was always the size that intimidated people.  
Vylea could talk this over with her, but the fact that this bitch had already take a lot of stuff and would get her in major trouble at this point, enrages her so that using violence is all she can think about and as she charges her again, she tries a sideways strike. Unfortunately it's something that ends up going just as well as the last.  
The bosmer even manages to roll in between her legs and dash out behind her, using her size against her. The audacity!

The problem for the warrior at this point however, is that the much shorter woman is also much faster, and once Vylea actually manages to turn around after her attack, the thieving little bastard has already leapt out of the window and she and her companions are rushing off through the street.  
Vylea moves over to the window, grabbing the edge of it and is about to attempt to pursue them, but thinks better of it. With her large armour, as well as heavy weapon, there's no way she can get them at this point.

She sighs deeply and in frustration, slams her axe down into one of the boxes, shattering parts of it, making the cloth inside tear and fly out of its place.


End file.
